


When the Darkness Surrounds

by ThisOneGeek



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Torture, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:34:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9125884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisOneGeek/pseuds/ThisOneGeek
Summary: Ron has left, and in a swift accident, Hermione is left with nothing but darkness. How can Hermione survive a war that she can’t see?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I got this idea when I read about another fic with blindness, and the idea stuck. Don't know if this has been done before, but I feel special, so don't ruin this for me. (I'm kidding. Feel free to point out everything similar between another work, and tell me if I did something wrong with my portrayal please.)

Ron was gone, and that was it. Hermione frantically continued to disassemble her shield charm, scattering it into nothingness. She flew out of the entrance, unaware of the loud crack that had rung out a few moments before.

“RON!” She called, her eyes scanning across the still woods, the cold air nipping at her exposed neck. “RON!” Her voice rang out once more, a shiver zipping down her spine.

Looking out across emptiness, her heart sank, feeling as if it had left her body all together. Forcing herself back inside the tent, she collapsed into the nearest chair and began to sob. Hermione was barely aware of the form that crossed across the floor of the tent, picking up a familiar object that had recently been thrown to the floor, wearing it across his neck.

Her tears continued to fall down her cheeks, and she could barely look up, let alone take out a book to distract her. Her mind was racing, yet stalled. Thinking, yet shocked. Alive, yet dead.

Her relationship had grown with Ron, something she had hoped would blossom into something more. He had begun to level out, take more care in her rather than whatever crossed his mind… And then he was gone. In a flash of anger imbued by the hatred of Voldemort, her friend -- maybe eventually something more -- was gone.

The light flickered out, and she was left in darkness. Sitting up, her eyes slowly adjusting, she saw Harry lying in the corner, his back turned to her. She guessed he didn’t want to talk about it, and that was perfectly fine with Hermione for the moment. After debating for a moment, she decided to stay in the chair. She didn’t trust herself to be able to move without crying.

She let herself fall to sleep, where the darkness enveloped her before dissipating a few moments later. The sun had come up, shining through the opening in the tent. Blinking a few times, she found Harry sitting at the table, hunched over something.

“Morning.” She croaked.

He sighed. “Morning.” He took a sip of his coffee and ruffled his hair, his back turned away from her. They sat in silence for the remainder of the morning.

Finally she had enough courage to take out a book, and she began to translate _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ . She had just begun to translate a story called _The Tale of the Three Brothers_. It was very interesting, yet completely implausible. Her thoughts briefly lingered on the topic of Harry’s invisibility cloak before brushing it aside.

It was late into the afternoon before she finally took a break from translating the old story, having just finished it. She stretched her arms, and all the thoughts, fear, and emotion of the past day came rushing back to her, clouding her thoughts. Briefly, she thought about discussing their plans with Harry, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. If they talked, they would ultimately lead to the events of the night before, and she didn’t know if she was quite up for that.

Standing up, she poured herself a cup of tea before grabbing a scavenged egg she had pre cooked early the night before. It tasted terrible, but she didn’t mind, and she sat down with a less mentally strenuous book. She flipped through the pages casually, researching through possible locations for the Sword of Gryffindor, which seemed to nearly be a lost cause.

She soon found information on Godric’s Hollow, which was home to many famous witches and wizards throughout the ages. It seemed like a likely area for such an object, especially knowing Dumbledore. He seemed to like to toy with her even in his death, setting up puzzle after puzzle, needing each one solved to be able to solve each other one. A seemingly impossible task.

Night quickly broke the will of the sun, forcing it out of the sky. It was her watch, and she silently passed Harry out the tent. She quickly lit her wand and stared into the inky blackness of the forest. Everything was quiet, eerily quiet. A twig snapped next to her, causing her to jump as a bunny streaked across in front of her. Her nerves were shot, and she needed something to calm herself down.

Taking a deep breath, she thought of a happy memory, when Ron had kissed… Ron. She held back her tears, and searched her mind for another memory, one that specifically lacked a certain redhead. She thought of Harry’s birthday, the look on his face when she gave him a gift…

A silvery otter jumped out of her wand, bounding silently around the forest. “Petting” the subtle form of light, she felt calm and at peace. Even thoughts of Ron didn’t touch her. She kept watch through the rest of the night.

It was nearly morning when her eyes closed as she slowly sunk to the ground. Hermione was exhausted, and the next thing she knew, she was waking up in the tent, covered with her blankets. Rubbing the bleariness out of her eyes, she found Harry sitting in a chair next to her.

“Morning.” He said as he took a sip of coffee.

“Oh hell, Harry.” Hermione huffed groggily. “I’m not doing this for another morning. I need someone to talk to.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you ignoring me.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It couldn’t possibly be because my best friend, or at least who I thought was my best friend, just left me.”

Tears began to well up in her eyes. “Oh. And I couldn’t have possibly lost my friend, maybe something more…” She swallowed hard.

“Then you could have left!”

“But I didn’t Harry! I wanted to stick by you! I believe in you! I want to help you!”

“Great lot that’s done, hasn’t it.” He stood quickly from his chair. “I’ll be outside.” As soon as he left, Hermione broke. The tears rolled down her cheeks as she sobbed. She couldn’t stop them, and she lay there, feeling abandoned, until she cried herself to sleep.

The next day, she and Harry packed up the tent in silence, apparating to another place in Britain. She quickly put up the usual protection charms and enchantments. Harry sat inside, and so she stayed out of the tent, pulling a book out of her bag to try and use it as a shield against her thoughts. It didn’t work.

She was becoming sick and tired of it. Hermione felt alone, and she didn’t stay with Harry to be alone. She stayed to help him, and if he didn’t want her help, then he wasn’t going to have a good time. She pledged that she wouldn’t leave him, that he was her priority, and him wallowing in self pity was helping no one, especially the rest of the world he was supposed to be saving.

The tent flaps were forced aside without a single touch from Hermione as she barged into the tent, her wand out. She marched over to Harry who quickly dropped his wand in shock. He seemed to be suppressing a grin, but his eyes shone dark and almost brown, a shocking feature that would normally resemble an emerald.

“Now I don’t know what’s going on, but this is brilliant.” Harry said. “Terrifying, yet brilliant.”

“Oh shut it.” Hermione growled. “Talk to me, or I swear I will hex you, Potter.” She quickly summoned his wand from the floor, shoving it in her back pocket.

“Since when have you called me Potter?”

“Since when have you been a self-pitying prick?” Hermione nearly grinned, but she managed to keep a straight face. “Besides fifth year?”

Harry sighed. “Fine, just put the wand down.” She pointed the wand straight at his face. “Or keep the wand up. It’s a really nice wand.”

Hermione’s eyes hardened to a chocolate color. “We need to talk, Harry. I need to talk. So please…”

“What’s there to talk about?”

Her eyes widened in anger. “What’s there-- How about Ron? How about our plans moving forward? How about how I feel like you're abandoning me even though I _stayed_ with you!”

“I’m not abandoning you--”

“Then prove it!” She hissed. “Tell me it’s going to be okay! If I cry, don’t let me be alone! Just--”

“I’m sorry Hermione. It’s just…” Harry put his face into his hands. “A lot’s been going on lately, and Ron’s kind of gotten into my head. We’ve barely made any progress, and then I lost him, I’m losing you…”

Hermione nearly dropped her wand. “You… You’re not losing me. I’m here. I will always be here.”

He sighed. “Ron’s a git.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much--”

“Not really. He left me, but he more importantly left you. That shouldn't have happened.”

“I know, Harry… But he wasn’t in his right mind.”

“No, but all the horcrux did was increase his feelings and thoughts until they came boiling out.” Harry explained.

Hermione passed him back his wand seeing that he was willing to participate in a conversation. “I know… I just… I’m scared, Harry. I’m scared for us. I’m scared for him. I just…”

“Hermione--”

“Just… I want to figure this out. It’s driving me mad.”

Harry twirled his wand thoughtfully in his hands. His eyes flashed the same dull green as before. “If you think it’s driving you mad…”

“Let’s not make this a competition, Harry. Please.” Hermione pleaded.

Harry conceded, turning back to his wand and the Horcrux. Hermione, feeling as if something heavy had been lifted off of her chest, set across from Harry and pulled out a book. They sat in silence as for a while before another question reached the forefront of her mind.

“Harry?”

“Yes, Hermione?” He replied.

She took a deep breath before looking into his eyes. “Everything is going to be okay, right?”

His eyes gleamed maliciously for a split second before they returned to their diluted state. “You know what, Hermione? I don’t know anymore.” He spit out. “I’d love to say that the next Horcrux is just a few feet away with the sword laying beside it, but that’s becoming more and more unlikely.”

“Harry--”

“And now that it’s only us, the odds of us surviving just dropped, not that Ron was much help anyways, but he was still there.”

“Harry--”

“The whole world is counting on me to do some impossible task Dumbledore’s left me, and it freaking sucks. Merlin does it suck! I don’t know what I’m doing, and we could die any day now for all I know.”

“Harry you need to take the Horcrux off. You’ve had it on--”

“And another thing!” He nearly shouted. “All our friends are dying at home while we’re parading out to our deaths out here! While we’re doing nothing, sitting on our arses, our friends are dying or being tortured! It’d almost be easier if we just gave ourselves up! At least I could stop them from being hurt.”

“Harry--”

“Stop interrupting me!” He yelled at her, causing her to flinch. She was caught gazing at his eyes. The Horcrux must have been dulling them, slowly taking away the light that once shone within him. “You have done nothing but nag me since first year! It would probably be better if you left too! At least I’d be able to only have to look after myself!”

Hermione was nearly terrified, and she didn’t dare think about summoning the locket in fear of causing Harry to lash out at her. “Harry, just please calm down. It’s the locket… This isn’t you!”

“SHUT UP!” He banged his wand on the table in anger. a blue light shot out of the end of the wand. Hurtling forward, it caught Hermione directly in the face, causing her world to go dark.

She screamed in pain as she fell out of her chair, her hands clasped to her face. Her agony echoed across the room, jolting Harry out of the influence of the Horcrux, who hurled it across the tent. Or at least that’s what Hermione guessed what the loud thunk in the background was.

Slowly her head was lifted into Harry’s arms, who forced her hands away from her eyes. Blinking, her eyes open, she saw nothing but darkness.

“Harry, I can’t see. Harry! I can’t see!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron has left, and in a swift accident, Hermione is left with nothing but darkness. How can Hermione survive a war that she can’t see?

“No no no no no.” Harry cried as he carried Hermione over to the chair and set her down lightly.

Hermione’s world was dark. Hermione’s world was black. Hermione’s world was devoid of hope.

“Harry.” She said quietly, trying not to panic. “What happened?”

“I-I don’t kn-know.” He stuttered as he began to examine her with his wand. “I don’t know what to do…”

“Shine a light in my eye.” She instructed hopelessly.

Harry did as he was told, and Hermione could feel him moving his wand back and forth in front of her eyes. “Can you see it?”

“No.” She breathed softly. “Let’s just run through what could have possibly happened.”

“HOW ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS?” He asked in a panic.

She held back tears that threatened to flow forwards. “Harry, if I don’t stay calm, I’m going to break down. So if you could please be calm as well, we may be able to find a solution.”

“A solution to what?” He demanded. “I’ve blinded you! There’s no going back! I slammed my wand down on the table, it shot a random spell at you, and now you’re blind!” She heard him begin to pace across the room.

“Harry, please…” The tears began to roll down her cheeks as she began to break. Her eyes were her everything. Without them, she couldn’t read, she couldn’t study, she couldn’t perform magic, she couldn’t… see. Sobs were building up in her throat, and in one swift moment, she let them roll out of her throat.

Harry quickly came over and pulled her into a hug. “I am so sorry, Hermione. Tell me anything I can do. Anything, please.”

Hermione waved him off as she curled up on the chair. She heard a loud crack come from outside the tent, and the floodgates burst. The tears wouldn’t stop spilling out of her unseeing eyes. The sounds slowly faded around her as color returned.

 

_She looked at him from out of the corner of her eye, her focus maintained on the birds she had conjured. They flittered above her as the tears fell from her eyes._

_“Hi, Harry.” She said, not moving her gaze an inch. “The party’s…” He pulled her into a gentle hug. “Congratulations.” She nearly sobbed._

_The door opened behind him as Ron and Lavender stumbled in, lips locked together. Her heart broke as they turned around. She snapped as she sent her birds at him in a rage. She was lost as Harry led her back to the Common Room. She broke as she cried silently in her bed._

 

The dream faded, the darkness returned, and she was blind. The world around her was nearly silent. She felt a sudden warmth when she moved her hand into a specific position, so she guessed it was still daylight. She wanted to move. She wanted to read. She wanted to see.

She crawled off of the couch groping around on the floor. She didn’t trust herself to stand, and she didn’t even know where her wand was. “Accio wand!” A moment later a twig-like object cut across her face before falling to the ground in front of her.

A loud crack came from outside, causing her to jump. “Hermione! What are you doing?” Harry called as the entrance to the tent opened with a swish.

“Oh. You know. Crawling on the ground while I’m blind is all.” She choked out, a fake grin spreading across her face, hiding her true feelings. “You?”

Harry picked her up and set her down on one of the chairs. She heard a faint rumble as Harry pushed a chair to her side, and a soft squishing sound as Harry sat beside her. “Well,” He rustled around in a pile of… something, causing a few bumps to disturb the otherwise silent tent. “I stopped by Diagon Alley--”

“WHAT!” She gaped at where she thought he sat (And subsequently had her head turned slightly to the right) in total shock. “But… That’s so…” She slapped his arm -- she hoped -- and heard him grunt in pain.

“I went there for you!” He snapped. “I snuck in, under my cloak, into Flourish and Blotts so that I could get something to help our situation. Speaking of which…” He slid a familiar object into her arms. She cracked open the book and brushed her hand on the page.

She nearly sobbed. “I can’t read this, Harry.”

“I know. That’s why I’m here. It’s called _Magical Blindness: Causes and Treatments_. I’d thought if we knew a bit more…”

“You’re brilliant Harry.”

He sighed. “Other than blinding you, I guess.”

“Can you read me the table of contents?” She asked, quickly diverting the conversation to a hopefully smoother topic.

He took the book back and began to flip through the pages. “Umm, sure.” He read off the table of contents, until Hermione stopped him. “ _Causes: Spell Damage_. Alright… Umm. Oh this is cool. It has descriptions of the spells, and what their effects are… Let’s see…” He flipped through quite a few pages before he stopped and began examining a page. “Was your blindness immediate?”

“It was dark in an instant.” She sighed.

“And, do you remember what color the spell was?”

She thought for a moment, thinking back to her last moment of sight. “I think it was blue, but I can’t be sure.

“That’s what I… Oh no…”

“What?” She asked cautiously, not wanting an answer.

“Umm…”

“Harry?”

“It’s an _Obscuratus_ spell. It… It permanently blinds. He moved his hand into hers. “I’m so sorry Hermione.”

She squeezed his hand tightly. “Don’t be. You didn’t mean to. We’ll just… Did you say there was a chapter on adjusting?”

Once again, she heard him flipping through pages. “Yeah… It’s… Right here. Do you want me to read it out for you?”

“Please.”

Harry cleared his throat quickly. “ _Many may think that blindness is one of the worst afflictions to befall a witch or wizard, but they are wrong. Things, such as a total loss of magic, a Dementor’s kiss, and even more have all been proven to have a worse effect on a witch or wizard’s magic._ ” Harry shivered at the thought of the Dementor’s kiss. “ _Blindness, although often untreatable, can actually enhance the magic of the individual. The loss of one of the senses frees up some of the magic that was being used to already enhance it, albeit slightly --_ then how am I blind without my glasses?” He asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Just keep reading, Harry. Please.”

“ _When a witch or wizard is blinded, their magic is enhanced to a point that they can use their magic, much like another sense, to explore their surroundings, receiving a faint ‘image’ that they can use to navigate through the world._ ”

“That’s brilliant.” She breathed quietly.

Harry sighed. “I’m… I’m not done.” He turned his attention back to the book. “ _This magical sense, however, is a rather complex process that sometimes takes months to develop, if they can develop it at all. But, another simpler choice used by many is the process of Legilimency. Using Legilimency, due the lack of sight of their own, a witch or wizard can ‘borrow’ the sight of whose mind they are looking into. It is only temporary, and works off of the concept that the present time is a memory._ ”

“Harry?” She reached out for his face, eventually finding it. Slowly turning it until she felt her eyes met up with hers, she took a deep breath. “ _Legilimens_!”

Her magic rushed from her core into her eyes. Crossing the gap of space between her and Harry, it poured into his eyes, his mind, and his soul. Light instantly returned to her vision, and she found herself looking at… herself. “This is almost as bad as the timeturner.”

“Speak for yourself.” Her vision was blocked as Harry reached up to his eyes, making sure they were still in his head. “Asking next time… Or even a warning…”

“I’m sorry!” She dropped the spell, allowing the darkness to return. “I just… got excited. Was it weird?”

“I felt… blind.” Harry answered, rubbing his eyes. “But if it means you can see… Feel free to hijack my sight anytime. But, you know, a warning would be great.”

“Can I…?”

“Go for it.”

“ _Legilimens!_ ” She felt her magic flow from her eyes, meeting Harry’s. Sight returned in a moment as Harry looked around wildly. She slowly was able to grasp his face and turn it towards her. “My… My eyes are grey!” Her eyes stared back cold and grey, unseeing. She could see the panic written on her face.

Harry coughed. “They umm… They were grey right after the… Umm… Spell…” He looked towards the tent door, completely disorienting Hermione in the process. She released the spell, allowing the darkness to seep back through.

She held on tight to the chair she sat in so as to get her bearings once more. “That wouldn’t be too bad if it didn’t almost make me sick. I can only see that being useful for reading.”

Harry pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry. This should have never happened.”

“No, it shouldn’t have, but there’s nothing we can do now.” She explained. She looked around, pointlessly as she couldn’t actually see. “Maybe… Maybe you should just go on without me.”

“What?” He gasped. “Hermione, I--”

“I’ll only hold you down…” She sighed, rubbing her temples. “I’m only a weak link now. I can’t even defend myself.”

Harry began tapping his foot. “I can’t do this without you. You’re half the reason I’m alive right now.” She glared in the direction she thought he sat in. “Alright, you are the reason I’m alive. And that’s why--”

“I don’t want to be the reason you get killed!” She snapped, her temper breaking through the calm exterior she had been holding together.

“You aren’t… I don’t want to be the reason _you_ get killed!”

She sighed. “This argument is never going to end, is it?” A moment later, she found Harry turning her head towards him, giving her a signal. “ _Legilimens_.” She said halfheartedly. In front of her -- or in front of Harry really -- she sat, looking broken.

“I _need_ you, Hermione.” He said as he brushed some hair out of her face. “Do you see this?” He held the Horcrux up in front of his eyes. “I need your help with this. I need _you_.” He pulled her into a hug once again.

A few tears began falling out of the corners of her eyes. “I… I need you too.”

She slowly let the spell begin to falter, allowing him to have a blurry sight as well. He found her eyes quickly as her sight began to go dark. “But you shouldn’t have to.”


	3. Chapter 3

**A Month Later**

 

She probed around in the darkness. Her magic extended to the corners of the tent. She could feel the chair, the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. Hermione walked through the tent slowly, constantly checking her surroundings for anything that could trip her up. Finding the table, she sat down in the chair quickly, pouring a glass of water towards her. Taking a small sip, she set it down, and quickly searched the room from her seat for the small ball they had found a few weeks before. Hermione pointed her wand at it and began to levitate it, bringing it towards her. Dropping the spell as the ball was above her, she caught it in one hand, pointing her wand at the forms that had begun to sneak into the tent.

“Hold it, Hermione!” Harry called, putting his hands up. “It’s just me!”

She pursed her lips suspiciously. “Who’s that with you?” She nudged her wand in the second form’s direction. 

“It’s… It’s me, Hermione. It’s Ron…” He said nervously towards her. She began to faltar, lowering her wand, until it popped back up with a fury.

Turning back towards Harry, she glared at him. “Why couldn’t I tell who Ron is?”

“Because… Umm… you’re blind.”

“WHAT!” Ron gasped in shock.

She waved him off, not taking her wand off of Harry. “What was the spell, and what book did you bring back from Flourish and Blotts?” 

“ _ Obscuratus _ , and the book was  _ Magical Blindness: Causes and Treatments _ .” He ruffled up his hair as Ron continued look quickly between him and Hermione. 

She visibly relaxed, dropping her wand. Then she came back to her senses and trained it straight at Ron. “WHERE WERE YOU!”

He backed up quickly, his hands raised into the air in surrender. “Can we talk about you being blind first?” She shot a stunning spell next to his head, missing it by an inch. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have left, I regretted it the moment I did.”

“I don’t care if you regretted it in first year. You hurt us. You hurt me.” She snapped. “How’d you get back?”

“The deluminator. I clicked it, and a ball of light came out, and I sort of… knew where to go.” 

“Why’d you come back?”

“Because I love you Hermione! And I want to help Harry.”

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat. “Then maybe you should have stayed away…”

“Why?”

Hermione ran towards him, her wand pointed at him. “I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but you hurt me! I practically mourned you for days! Just the thought of you made me want to cry! Then when I couldn’t see anymore, do you know who was there?” She had backed him into a corner, her wand at his throat. “Not you! Harry was there. He helped me! He did everything he could to help!” 

Harry attempted to drag her away, but she pointed her wand at him. “Alright then.” He said, eyeing her wand carefully. “Ron, you’re on your own.”

“Thanks mate.” Ron replied dryly. “I am truly sorry, Hermione. I never meant to--”

“You never  _ mean _ to Ron!” She snapped. “You just do. Constantly. Don’t you remember how almost every year, we get into a terrible argument where I end up crying?” 

“If you want me to leave, then I’ll leave--”

“Of course I don’t want you to leave, Ron!” She pocketed her wand and crossed her arms. “I just… I don’t want to be hurt again, and I don’t want to get my hopes up just to be hurt again. Can we… Can we just stay friends?”

Ron exhaled a shaky breath. “Friends? If that’s what you want… Then sure.”

Harry shifted in his seat. “Should I have stepped out for this, or…”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re fine Harry. Besides, I’m sure Ron has a few questions…” She smiled nervously. 

“So I can freely talk without the threat of being hexed?” Ron asked as she nodded. “Okay. First question: Why the bloody hell are you blind?”

Hermione looked towards Harry, hoping he would take the lead. He looked towards her face and nodded. “When you left, I made the same mistake as you: I wore the Horcrux for too long. And when Hermione confronted me about you… I slammed my wand on the table, and it shot out a spell. It instantly blinded her.”

Ron looked between the two of them. “So you did this to her? And yet you scream at me about hurting you?” He asked Hermione incredulously.

“What Harry did was an accident.” Hermione reasoned. “You could have done the same thing rather than leaving. But Harry stood by me, and he wouldn’t let me leave when I felt hopeless. He helped me do the impossible so that I can ‘see’ without seeing.”

“Like what?” 

Harry grinned behind her. “Ron, you really shouldn’t have asked.”

Hermione guessed that Ron went pale. “ _ Legilimens _ !” Her magic forged the connection from her eyes to his, allowing sight, something she had not had for quite a few days, to return.

She saw herself, dark sunglasses blocking her eyes, her hair blanketing down her back like a bush. Harry had been the one to think of the sunglasses, and so she’d been wearing them since. Ron jumped back and grabbed his eyes, blocking her view. 

“Bloody-- What the-- Hermione!” He called as he stumbled backwards. Feeling nauseous, she released her spell, allowing the darkness to take over once more. “Warning please!”

“That’s how I saw for the month after you left. I was finally able to use my magic as another sense, but I’m still working out the kinks.”

Ron rubbed his eyes. “You were able to bloody attack me pretty well, weren’t you?” He continued to blink as if he were afraid Hermione had actually stolen his eyes. “After all we did today too.”

“What did you do?” She asked, her hand already reaching for her wand. 

Harry, quickly pulled her into a seat, restraining her. “We didn’t do anything bad. We actually got this.” Ron pulled out a sword -- which she had somehow missed in her search -- and set it on the table in front of her.

“Is that--?” She asked, inching forward. 

“Yes.” Harry replied.

“Did you--?”

“The Horcrux is destroyed. Ron did it.”

“All is forgiven.” She said.

They continued to get caught up throughout the night, and Hermione finally relented to Harry to get to sleep after she had begun to slump over the arm of the chair. She woke up in the morning to find Ron sitting next to her, watching over her. She knew he was trying to make up for his leaving, but her heart just wasn’t really in it anymore. 

Over the next few days, they began to come up with plans for their next move now that Hermione was mostly self-sufficient and able to protect herself. She had relented to Harry’s insistence that they go see Godric’s Hollow, but only if he agreed to Polyjuice, Disillusionment, and the Invisibility Cloak. She was not in the mood to take any chances, and was still wary of her abilities.

After packing up camp, she allowed Harry to Side-along Apparate her into Godric’s Hollow. Catching her before she fell to the ground, he pulled her up. Searching out with her magic again, she found Harry to be holding her abnormally close, and he continued to do so. 

“Oi!” Ron whispered sharply, causing her to jump. “I don’t really care, but could you get a room if you’re going to snog.”

Hermione felt her cheeks flush. “We weren’t… We…”

“I mean…” Harry said.

“Harry!”

She stormed off ahead, leaving Harry and Ron no choice but to follow. Leading into the cemetery, she quickly found Lily and James. Conjuring flowers, she let Harry have a few minutes alone. She could feel a few tears fall from his face, but she didn’t say a word, refusing to think of her own parents who didn’t even remember her. 

After a few minutes, she grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him towards the houses and the Potter Memorial. She bet it looked beautiful, and the thought nearly let a few tears fall. Ron was silent throughout the entire ordeal, but he spoke up once he saw a figure watching from afar.

“I think she wants us to follow her.” Ron noted as he began to walk away. 

Hermione barely pulled him back. “It could be a trap! Something doesn’t feel right about her.”

“Like what?” Harry asked.

Hermione thought for a second, focusing everything she had on the woman, but she was still fuzzy. “I can’t tell. If you can guide me closer, I can try and figure it out. I’m just too far away to do anything helpful.”

Harry lightly grabbed her elbow, guiding her slowly forward. Hermione couldn’t help but notice how familiar the women felt… She needed to get closer.

“She just went into the house.” Harry informed. “Should we follow her in?”

She nodded. “I need to get closer. She’s familiar… I just need to know. But wands out… Maybe sword too…”

Ron, learning not to question her over the past few days, took out the sword in one hand, holding his wand in the other. They slowly moved towards the house as Hermione continued to align a clearer picture of the woman in her mind, her focus never wavering. The woman, whom she could only guess was Bathilda Bagshot, felt strangely familiar. Magically, that is. 

Harry slowly guided her through the doorway, her magic tearing away at the layers that clouded the woman, hiding her in a mystery. Only when the door shut did it all click, just as everything went to Hell.

“OH MERLIN!” She yelled, raising her wand as she took her focus off of Bathilda Bagshot, who she now knew was dead. 

“What?” Both boys said, raising the wands.

Harry swore as the skin around the woman fell down to the ground in a crumpled mess, and out crawled a living snake, winding its way quickly out of the skin it had just shed. 

“It’s a Horcrux!” Hermione yelled as she pulled Harry out of the way, firing on the snake uselessly. She felt her spells fly off of the scales, it slithering a few feet in front of her. Then, it pounced. Fangs open to inflict as much damage as possible, it flew through the air, heading straight for Hermione’s face. Her mouth fell open in shock. 

Without Harry pulling her aside, she would be dead. She felt his arm pull onto hers, time having slowed to a standstill, Hermione completely frozen in the moment before a likely death. A tugging sensation came from her arm, and the snake smacked into the wall behind her, pulling a few strands of hair with it, missing her ear by barely an inch. 

It crumpled to the ground before shaking the crash off, instantly looking around for what should have been it’s prize. It’s eyes locked on -- or at least she thought she could feel the sinister stare of the evil creature -- onto Hermione, rearing itself up to once again pounce.

Then it’s head, completely separated from it’s body, fell to the floor. Ron stood over it, sword in hand, horror set on his face. Hermione took a deep breath before falling back into Harry. That had been the most physical work she’d done in the past month, and she could feel it. It had also been the most stressful, and it was starting to make her wish she drank. Firewhiskey, although it would probably burn her throat, was sounding like heaven at the moment.

“At least this wasn’t a complete bust.” Harry examined, looking at the carnage of their recent encounter. 


	4. Chapter 4

In all honesty, Hermione wasn’t that impressed with the idea of the Deathly Hallows. It seemed rather pointless and improbable. A hoax repeated through history so as to gather fame and attention. So of course, Harry, the git, would fall head over heals with the idea.

They had visited Xenophilius Lovegood, the father of Luna, to see if he could help them figure out the symbol that rested above the story of the Three Brothers. That turned out to be a catastrophe, Hermione insisting they leave as soon as she sensed that Xenophilius sent word to the snatchers for their arrest. If she hadn’t pulled Ron away and disapparated them both -- which is no small task when blind -- he would have most likely have hexed the man, something she was sure Luna would not appreciate.

They had quickly made their escape to another forest where they settled down for a small bit, taking a quick breather after another disaster. Hermione could feel Ron becoming rather discouraged, and she was rather thankful there wasn’t a Horcrux around his neck, or she was sure he would have already have run out.

It was because of that possibility that she began to put her faith more in Harry, and love subsequently followed, whether or not that was her intention. She had noticed through the years that Harry had been the kindest person to her that she had ever met, often sticking by her when Ron left at the first sign of trouble or disagreement. And even though he caused her blindness, he stuck by her to help her work it out, doing everything in his power to help her. Now, she could almost say she was better off with being blind. She didn’t dare think about what could have happened at both Godric’s Hollow and the Lovegoods’ if she hadn’t been able to sense the impending danger that laid in their path. This new sense of Hermione’s, however, could not help them in every situation.

“Vold--” Harry had begun to say.

Ron’s eyes went wide. “HARRY, NO!”

“--demort. Honestly--” Harry stopped abruptly as several loud cracks surrounded their tent. Hermione, desperately hoping for a mistake, pushed as much of her magic out of her body that she dared send to see what was out there. She quickly found out it was nothing good.

“Don’t make any sudden moves.” A raspy voice called from the entrance side of the tent as footsteps slowly closed in from all sides. “We have the tent surrounded.”

Turning quickly, wand poised for action, she shot a stinging hex straight at Harry’s face, hoping to temporarily mar his features. He grabbed his face and cried out as he fell backwards onto the ground. She could sense the shock rolling off of him in waves. Hermione then scurried to collect the magic she had pushed out, creating a magical shield around only her eyes. She had a feeling the people about to restrain her wouldn’t be very kind to the disabled.

Rough hands grabbed her, pulling her away from the tent, her magic half-heartedly searching the area to make sure she didn’t trip over anything. They dragged her, Harry, and Ron over to another group of people, where she immediately recognized Dean Thomas, who was restrained beside a goblin.

In the background, Ron struggled, calling out for them to let her go, but she knew it was no use. As a matter of fact, a few moments later, they were shoved beside Dean, magically restrained with their arms behind their backs. Hermione looked around (both physically and magically) to get an idea of who their captors were. One, she found, was a werewolf, and she doubted he was anything like Remus.

“Don’t worry love,” The werewolf rasped, gently stroking her cheek, “we’ll figure out who you are in just a moment.” He moved rather close to her, and soon he found him leaning over her, his mouth against her ear, causing her to shudder. “The girls always have such… soft skin…” He licked his lips as he stepped away, another man moving forward with a long parchment.

“What’s up with the glasses?” He asked, snatching them off of her head, causing her to immediately look down, clenching her eyes shut. That seemed to be the wrong thing to do, as he slapped her across the face, forcefully moving her head into a position to look directly at him. Or at least, that’s what she thought. The world was still spinning after the slap.

“I-I’m blind.” She stuttered out, attempting to clench her eyes shut as he pried them open. Next to her, she could feel Harry and Ron thrashing around in their bindings.

The man laughed. “Blind. I’ve heard worse lies.”

“It’s not a lie!” She nearly shouted, earning another slap across the face.

The rest of their time before being disapparated away, she was rather spaced out. The slap had done a number on her, and she couldn’t tell if any more were inflicted upon her. She put all her focus in conserving the shields in front of her eyes, so as to make absolutely sure no one tried to mess with them. As long as she actually was able to maintain them, that is.

Darkness surrounded her, something she had begun to lose the complete feel of, only having the full experience when she slept. Well, until the dreams came. She felt the minor tug of apparition before she stumbled and fell with the others onto the cold ground. A shiver slithered its way up her spine, already poking a hole into her carefully concentrated shields.

Hermione felt rough hands pulling her through a creaking gate, pushing her behind Harry as they made their way up a slight hill. Another door creaked open, and she heard the subtle rustle of fabric at the doorway before a familiar, albeit barely, voice snapped against the crisp winter air. “What is this?” The voice of Narcissa Malfoy said. Hermione thought she could feel the glare she -- and the rest of the prisoners -- must be receiving.

For a few moments, Narcissa and the werewolf, who was apparently called Fenrir Greyback -- a familiar name that made Hermione shiver once more -- as he reintroduced himself, argued about the fate of the prisoners until Harry’s name was mentioned. The prisoners were then swiftly moved into the house, which was most likely more a manor than a house, before being stopped in front of another figure. The investigation of Harry began once again, before Hell -- because Hermione hadn’t already lived through enough of it on earth -- quickly fell upon them.

As soon as Hermione heard Bellatrix’s voice, she immediately threw her entire focus on the shields over her eyes. Bellatrix came in slowly before giddily running over to Harry, where she began to examine his face. At least, this was what Hermione guessed was happening, as Bellatrix moved over to her in a moment.

She pinched Hermione’s face, causing Hermione’s concentration to falter for a moment. “Surely this is the Mudblood girl.” She began to force Hermione’s eyes open, but jumped back quickly as Hermione sent a minor shock through her shields. “Vile girl! Open your eyes when I speak to you and look me in the eye!”

Hermione, not wanting to have Bellatrix do anymore damage, slowly opened her eyes, attempting to find the location of her voice. There was only one problem: the room in the manor echoed. She searched slowly, attempting to face the right way. Another slap across her face was enough to tell her that she had been looking in the wrong direction.

“She’s blind!” Ron blurted out, attempting to help the situation. Hermione didn’t know whether to be grateful or horrified. She expected she’d soon have her answer.

Bellatrix cackled. “Blind? And how did that happen? From what Draco’s told us, you had always had your nose shoved into a book.” She stroked around Hermione’s eyes gently, Hermione clenching them shut in return. “What a shame-- What is that?” Bellatrix nearly screamed, causing all others in the room to back away just slightly.

“Sword.” The guy who had slapped Hermione earlier said.

A moment later, a ruckus ensued, many spells being fired by Bellatrix, many thumps hitting the ground behind Hermione. Greyback barked out a few choice words before explaining how the sword had belonged to the trio. Hermione stiffened.

“Someone take them down to the cellar!” Bellatrix called. “No one is to call the Dark Lord!” Hermione was lead along with the other prisoners across the room. “Wait.” Bellatrix’s voice stopped all movement in the room. “All except… except for the Mudblood.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide in horror before she shut them tightly in caution. She was thrown over in front of Bellatrix, who quickly picked her up off of the floor. With all her might, she kept her focus on the shields around her eyes, feeling that they were in more danger than they had ever been in before.

“Let’s talk this out, why don’t we.” Bellatrix brushed a hair out of Hermione’s face. “Unless you’d rather I be persuasive.” Hermione shook her head, her eyes still forced shut. The next moment, Hermione found herself on the floor. “Where did you get this sword?” Bellatrix screeched, her anger pulsating off of her.

“We-we found i-it.” Hermione stuttered, realizing how close to death she may actually be. That’s when the pain hit.

She had barely heard Bellatrix say a curse before pain was rippling through her body, every fiber of her being wishing to disintegrate into nothingness. Every muscle tensed and untensed as she spasmed on the ground, her thoughts only of pain. Her screams echoed across the manor, sending a chill through her blood as it simultaneously felt like fire. In just a few seconds -- it felt like hours -- her voice grew hoarse.

And then their was bliss. Relative bliss, that is. Pain still raked its way through her body, but at least it was a tenth, if not a hundredth of what she had been experiencing before. That dull pulling sensation must have been Bellatrix putting her into a near sitting position, as the witch’s voice was rather close to her ear.

“I’ll ask one more time.” Bellatrix huffed. “Where. Did. You. Get. The. Sword.”

Hermione whimpered, knowing that this was the end. She would never be able to give an answer that would satisfy the witch. “We found it, I swear!”

The floor was cold against her cheek when the two met. The darkness around her became hazier -- if that was even possible -- and she felt her consciousness slipping away. But it hadn’t left fast enough.

Hermione’s shields were done, and nothing stood protecting her eyes. She gave a small shudder as she heard the brandishing of a knife. She was quickly rolled so her head faced upwards. If she had known who or what to pray to, she probably would have, but her mind was already losing its ground in a fight for coherent thought. Someone lazily forced her eyes opened -- she didn’t even need to guess who.

“Your eyes are a rather brilliant grey.” Bellatrix remarked, her voice surprisingly steady. “Too bad you can’t use them anymore.” With a quick movement, something sharp moved straight into her left eye, her nerves around her face instantly shot as if each had been exploded. The pain was almost too great, and it only exceeded her limits as her right side felt the same nerve fracturing laceration.

Darkness and nothingness followed, all pain receding as the surroundings grew quiet. As her mind slowly slipped from the world, her last thought was of how she wished she were dead.

 

* * *

 

The pain returned quickly, the darkness a defining feature in her mind. She winced, gasping audibly in pain, as she attempted to sit up. A hand quickly pushed her gently back onto the pillow, causing her to flinch in fear.

“It’s alright.” Harry’s calm voice said from beside her.

Hermione faintly felt something weird hovering across her eyes -- which were in a great deal of pain -- and something else on her left arm, but there were more pressing matters. “Where are we? What happened?” She asked, attempting to move her head to make it appear like she was looking at him.

He sighed. “We’re at Bill and Fleur’s cottage. That answers your ‘where’. As to ‘what’...” He grumbled something inaudible.

“What was that?” She asked, pressing for as much information as she could. She felt rather weak, and she wanted to know as much as she could before she was eventually forced back asleep.

Harry shuffled in his seat. “Well… Dean, Luna, and Ollivander were able to escape with Dobby’s help. Apparently he could Apparate through the wards.” Harry elaborated once she gave a confused expression. “Then Ron and I were able to make it out of the cellar, and we were able to escape with you just in time before things got worse.”

He paused for a moment, allowing the brief -- and it was rather brief and vague -- summary sink in. “Bellatrix, as we left, had attempted to throw a knife, but it slipped out of her hands, due to it being slick with… slick with blood.” Hermione breathed in quickly, her thoughts instantly moving to her eyes and the duller pain on her arm.

“It was your blood.” He said as Hermione stayed absolutely silent. “She damaged your eyes, and we were barely able to save them, but they have rather bad scars on them.” He gently pushed a hair out of her face, causing her to flinch. “Any hope of you having your sight return is now completely gone. I-I’m sorry.”

Hermione only nodded. “And what about my arm?”

“You ask the hardest questions to answer, you know that?” He scooted forward in his seat, the sound ringing out across the small room. “Bellatrix didn’t stop after your eyes. She-- She carved something out on your arm. A certain word--”

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

“I want the bandages off.”

Harry seemed stunned by her response. “Hermione, I can’t. Fleur will skin me alive if I even try. She’s barely letting me sit in her right now. It’s all my fault we even ended up here to begin with.”

“How do you figure?” She asked, an annoyed tone making its way through her voice.

He sighed. “If I hadn’t said that stupid name, we wouldn’t have even gone there. We would have been fine, but I fu--”

“Harry!”

“Right, no language.” He said. She could almost hear him rolling his eyes at her.

She scowled. “Not that! This wasn’t your fault Harry. I don’t blame you.”

“Well you bloody shou--” He was stopped abruptly by her lips. Through the pain, she had sat up quickly, forcing out as much magic as she could to find his face before meeting his lips with hers. A ripple of warmth was cast down her body, starting from her mouth. The pain in every portion of her body was diminished until she pulled away, a bit short of breath.

She collapsed back onto the pillow, her strength failing her. “I love you, you git. It’s not your fault, so stop saying it is.”

Silenced filled the room. “I love you too.” He whispered, tucking the strands of hair that had moved onto her face behind her ear. He stood quickly. “You need to rest. I’ll get Fleur, just don’t tell her about what you just did. I’d rather not have a new scar.”

Hermione chuckled, reality completely lost before the door was even closed.


End file.
